Tuesday, November 11, 2008

LEST WE FORGET: In Grateful Remembrance

My Daddy, may God rest his soul, served as rear-gunner in a B-17E's suffocating belly ball-turret during WWII, in the Pacific arena. He would rarely speak of those horrible, frightening times. His was the only plane from his squadron to return. I and my sisters came so close to never being born.

My nephew, Austin, served as a re-fueler and returned last year from Iraq, in agonizing physical pain and under emotional stress that can hardly be described. And he was one of the "lucky" ones.
May God bless and heal all those who suffer,
especially those in faithful performance of their duty.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields.

by Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD
(1872-1918) Canadian Army

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